Unreciprocated Feelings
by Mikishami
Summary: He wanted her, but she wanted someone else. Hetalia oneshot. *Edit: I added a second chapter. It's the same thing, but only in Eliza's point of view. I wonder if it's still a oneshot. Meh. And, the cover picture isn't mine.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey. Mikishami here. :) So recently I got addicted and REALLY OBSESSED with EngHun... but now it suddenly stopped. Because of... yeah. I wrote this oneshot as something like a 'Goodbye, EngHun'. -_-" Ugh man. My life turned boring again, and I can't seem to rekindle the EngHun Love fire... all because of... Argh! :(**

**Disclaimer: Me no own Hetalia. But I do wish that I owned Iggy... and Male Hungary.  
**

* * *

"Austria will be back from his six month trip tomorrow in the afternoon."

…

"… I know."

Arthur gazed at the wall as he held Elizaveta loosely in his arms, slowly stroking her brown hair.

He knew it was temporary. Really. Even since that time when they both got drunk and mysteriously woke up in the same hotel room… even since that time when they'd agreed to become 'friends with benefits' – at least until Austria came back.

Elizaveta pulled the covers up to their shoulders, shivering slightly. It had been raining nonstop for about two days now, and she swore that the temperature had gone down by probably a hundred degrees. The Hungarian beauty moved herself even closer to the English gentleman, trying to get warmer, and Arthur adjusted his arm so that she was using it as a pillow. Satisfied and comfortable enough with her current position, Elizaveta yawned and closed her eyes, already feeling sleepy.

"You don't have to worry about a thing, Eliza," the Englishman reassured, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice. "I'll be gone by early morning, without a trace of me ever being here… so don't worry."

The tomboyish Héderváry woman groggily mumbled something in response and nuzzled her nose against his chest. Arthur just chuckled softly at this, finding it quite adorable. His feelings of rejection and sadness went away for a while as he gazed at her peaceful sleeping face. After a while, though, he turned his line of sight back to the wall, those negative feelings coming around again and causing him to furrow his eyebrows.

The former pirate captain tightened his hold on the woman all snuggled up beside him.

This was their last night together.

And Arthur was unable to fulfill his goal – at the beginning of their so-called 'relationship', Iggy swore that he would make Elizaveta fall in love with him throughout their limited time of being together.

But he failed.

Nothing seemed to change. Nothing at all.

Yes, he knew it was temporary. He knew she didn't love him. He knew she didn't give a damn about him.

And he knew he loved her with all his heart.

Arthur sighed, a melancholy look crossing his face. He buried his nose in Elizaveta's soft, apple-and-cinnamon-smelling hair, giving in to the drowsiness nagging at him for a while now.

He didn't notice the single tear that rolled down his cheek.

* * *

It was still dark outside, and rain was pouring down on the roof of the quaint house.

England's eyes flitted open, only to be met by Hungary's calm, sleeping face. Arthur gave a sad smile, studying her features. She really is one of a kind, he thought.

It was just too bad that he couldn't have her.

Arthur gently extracted his arm (which was supporting Elizaveta's head), careful not to wake her up. Successfully doing so, he immediately searched for and changed into a white polo and jeans – he _did _have a flight to catch, after all.

Honestly speaking, Iggy did not want to leave. But he had no choice. He wanted her, but she wanted someone else. _She'll be better off without me,_ he always chanted to himself – and this was exactly what he was thinking now. The feelings of rejection, sorrow and pain came back with a vengeance, and England felt his heart give a pang. It was painful to even breathe.

Iggy slipped on a jacket and exited the building he knew he wasn't going to enter for a very long while. He didn't dare look back at her. It hurt too much.

He stalked forward towards the airport, the rain mixing with his tears.


	2. Elizaveta

Okay, fine... I wanted to put up this chapter. Well, I guess this is all in Elizaveta's point of view, so... Oh, and 'Gomba' means 'mushroom' in Hungarian. Apparently, girls there like being called that.

* * *

Elizaveta internally sighed in relief as she slipped out of her sweaty day clothes and entered the small bathroom. Turning the shower on, her lips curved into a small smile as the hot water sprayed onto her delicate, pale skin, effectively washing off the grime and sweat along with the pent-up stress from the whole day's activities. She scrubbed herself thoroughly tonight- she knew that Arthur was waiting in the bedroom, and she didn't want him to think that she smelled like a horse.

'Since when have I been so conscious with my hygiene?' she asked herself and shook her head. Nope. No way did it have anything to do with Planet Eyebrows Man. It was just... That would just be... weird.

The Hungarian woman stepped out of the shower and dried herself off, contemplating her relationship with Arthur. It had been going on for, what? Five months already? Elizaveta, from the start, wasn't planning on it being serious. Arthur was just... A temporary replacement. Yeah... Just a replacement- nothing more, nothing less.

She frowned. 'Well, at least, that's what I would've described it as, five months ago. Now, she wasn't so sure. The tomboyish Hedervary pushed these perplexing thoughts away and started getting dressed into some old pajamas- it had been a long day, and she didn't want to prolong her time of separation from the comfort of her bed... And a certain Englishman.

... Wait, what?

She mentally smacked herself. Yeah, she should really get some much-needed sleep.

Elizaveta closed the bathroom door behind her and made her way to the bed. Arthur grinned as he pulled Elizaveta to him, taking in her scent. He ran his fingers softly through her brown locks, silently reveling in the feel of it. Elizaveta allowed a small smile to spread on her lips for a moment. She liked it when he did that- but of course she wouldn't tell him.

"Austria will be back from his six month trip tomorrow in the afternoon," she mumbled.

"... I know."

Eliza pulled the sheets up to their shoulders, shivering slightly. It was unusually cold, but the sound of the raindrops falling onto the roof was comforting... Along with Arthur's warmth. Elizaveta scooted closer to England, trying to steal more of his body heat. He adjusted his arm enough for her to be able to use it as a pillow, and Eliza yawned, feeling sleepy.

She didn't want him to go. Elizaveta, somehow, in the short span of time they had together, fallen in love with this man. Yes; she finally admitted it. She was entranced by every bit of him- his blonde hair, the way his lips curved into a smile that sort of looked like a smirk... those emerald green eyes and those furry, bushy eyebrows. She loved him, and she knew it. But why did she always hurt him? When she was down and he happened to be around, she would use him as a punching bag... and the next morning, he would wake up to bruises and black and blue spots.

Was she a sadist? Most probably, but...

... could it be that she was trying to push him away? That she was forcing herself not to fall in love with him? If so, then those attempts to do so failed.

"You don't have to worry about a thing, Eliza. I'll be gone by early morning, without a trace of me ever being here... so don't worry."

The Hungarian beauty just mumbled something incoherent and pressed her face to his chest, frowning. She thought back to that night around two months ago; the two of them had just come home from a meeting and were very tired. They barely even changed into their night clothes- immediately, the two countries plopped down on the bed. Elizaveta was curled up beside Arthur much like she was now, and he was also gently stroking her hair, trying to lull her to sleep. He'd always been thoughtful that way.

After a few minutes, when Arthur thought that she was asleep, he had kissed her on her temple and whispered a small, but meaningful, "I love you" into her ear. It was, perhaps, at that time that Elizaveta Hedervary had completely fallen for Arthur Kirkland.

If only she could tell him of her feelings.

Elizaveta smiled sadly at the thought. If only.

She felt Arthur bury his nose into her hair, and Eliza took that as a sign to really go to sleep. She hoped that she would dream of a future wherein they would both be together.

* * *

Elizaveta woke up to the sound of the rain pounding on the roof of her house. It was really comforting, she thought to herself. Maybe I should take a few more minutes to sleep... Hungary pulled the covers tighter against herself and inched closer to... Arthur?

Elizaveta's eyes opened wide only to see an empty space beside her.

No. No way. He didn't really leave, did he?

She got up, scanning the room. No... she wouldn't believe it. The Hedervary woman dashed to the bathroom- nope, not there. Maybe he was in the kitchen... and... Were those scones that she smelled? Hungary ran to the dining room, hopeful that Arthur was still there, perhaps cooking her some breakfast.

"Ah... Iggy?"

Nothing but silence greeted her. Hungary's face fell. He left. He really left... but why did she smell...

"?"

There were freshly made scones on the table, and a piece of folded paper beside it. Elizaveta picked the note up and unfolded it.

'Liza,

If you're reading this right now, then I'm most probably on my way back home. I made some scones for you, and I hope they taste good this time. Your cooking lessons really helped. Thanks, Liza. For everything.

Arthur'

Elizaveta bit her lip hard, trying to keep the tears from spilling. She glanced at what Arthur made... they looked delicious, but something else caught her eye. Beside the scones was something written with chocolate syrup on the plate. This time, she couldn't stop the torrent of salty water flowing down her cheeks.

_'For my little Gomba..._

_... I love you.'_


End file.
